Return to Epilogues Index
“We can go slow,” he said, but they hadn’t.
One microt they were talking about naming the stars, and now the next, it seemed, she was lying here, in his bed, in his arms, warm and naked and satiated, listening to his regular breathing as he slept.
And it was the most natural thing in the world.
She couldn’t believe she could feel this happy, this comfortable, this safe.
So why was she just a little bit queasy? Why was something tightening up her gut?
Ordinarily, she’d let it go. She wasn’t really introspective. Her Peacekeeper upbringing had not only discouraged that, it had actively suppressed any contemplative tendencies she might have had. Don’t think, don’t analyze, just do what you’re told. And especially, don’t feel.
But he had taught her how to feel. How to love, to laugh, to trust – and now, much to her surprise, to risk everything. Here she was, in his bed….with no thought of leaving.
So why was something nagging? What was tugging at the edges of her mind?
She’d get no sleep, no chance to enjoy this wonderful new sensation of peace and safety, if she didn’t identify it.
He stirred, and she hoped he would wake and distract her from her musings. But he only wrapped his arm more tightly around her, as if to make sure she’d still be there in the morning. It made her feel surprisingly good to know how much he needed her.
She turned her head to look at his face. A strong face, a handsome face, so peaceful now, in sleep. She’d long since memorized his features, but now there was an addition. A small scar above his eyebrow, still somewhat red and angry. A reminder that he would be dead now if not for –
The knot in her stomach turned into ice. Queasy didn’t begin to describe it. That was it. That was what was screaming at her from somewhere deep inside.
The other him. The other him who was on Moya now, if Moya had escaped the retrieval squad as Talyn had. Safe on Moya. And alone.
The other him who loved her and needed her just as much as the man whose bed she shared.
The other him whose heart she would break far more thoroughly than Talyn’s frelling pornography had hurt the man who was here, if and when they returned to Moya. Together.
But there was her answer. “Together.” She was committed. For better or for worse, she was committed to the man who was here with her. The man she’d been forced to accept, or watch him die.
There was nothing she could do about it unless she walked away from both of them.
And that she couldn’t do. Not now. Not ever.
She ran her fingers lightly through his hair, and kissed the smooth, uninjured side of his brow.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and pushed all thoughts of the other him down into a secret corner of her heart.
Slowly the knot in her stomach eased, and she relaxed into the arms of the man she loved.
